The Rolling Emerald

I peeked under the hem of the sofa and spotted a swirl of deep emerald trapped against the dark wooden leg—a forgotten glass marble! It looked far too pretty to be left gathering dust in the shadows, so I knelt down and braced both hands against its smooth, chilled curve. With one fierce shove from my boots, it broke free with a crisp clack and rolled across the parquet floor. A stray sunbeam caught the glass, scattering dazzling green rings over the polished wood before I scampered after it, catching its final wobble under my gloved palm.